The Third Quartet I made the instruments in pairs - Two different pairs - Violin and viola, and violin and cello. They played very different things from each other all through the whole piece.
quote by Elliott Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Violin
Four strings across the bridge,
Ready to carry me over,
Over the quavers, drunk in the bars,
Out of the realm of the orchestra,
Out of the realm of the orchestra.
Filling me up with the shivers.
Filling me up with the shivers and quivers.
Filling me up with the shivers.
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Paganini up on the chimney,
Lord of the dance,
With nero and old nicky.
Whack that devil
Into my fiddlestick!
Give me the banshees for b.v.s,*
Give me the banshees for b.v.s.
Jigging along with the fiddle, oh, johnny.
Jigging along with the fiddle-dee-dee.
Jigging along with the fiddle, oh, johnny.
Jigging along with the fiddle-dee-diddle-dee-dee!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Melody of a Shattered Soul!
If you give him one of these instruments?
Guitar, Bass, Violin
Mandolin,
Viola, Cello, Banjo
Lute, Bouzouki
Ukulele and more!
His fingers could touch every string
And he sings the deep sorrow
Deeper than an Ocean.
There's no stage for him in this cruel World
And he strums his broken Ukulele
in a dark street corner under a starry night.
You can hear the melody of a shattered soul!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The difference between a violin and a viola is that a viola burns longer.
quote by Victor Borge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jezebel
[ merchant ]
[ cello: larry corbett/violin: bruce dukov/viola: pamela goldsmith/violin: ralph morrison (quartet arranged and conducted by paul buckmaster) ]
To think of my task is chilling.
To know I was carefully building the mask I was wearing for two years, swearing Id tear it off.
Ive sat in the dark explaining to myself that Im straining too hard for feelings I ought to find easily.
Called myself jezebel.
I dont believe.
Before I say that the vows we made weigh like a stone in my heart.
Family is family, dont let this tear us apart.
You lie there, an innocent baby.
I feel like the thief who is raiding your home, entering and breaking and taking in every room.
I know your feelings are tender and that inside you the embers still glow.
But Im a shadow, Im only a bed of blackened coal.
Call myself jezebel for wanting to leave.
Im not saying Im replacing love for some other word to describe the sacred tie that bound me to you.
Im just saying weve mistaken one for thousands of words.
And for that mistake, Ive caused you such pain that I damn that word.
Ive no more ways to hide that Im a desolate and empty, hollow place inside.
Im not saying Im replacing love for some other word to describe the sacred tie that bound me to you.
Im not saying loves a plaything.
No, its a powerful word, inspired by strong desire to bind myself to you.
How I wish that we never had tried to be man and his wife, to weave our lives into a blindfold over both our eyes.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't let that horse
Don't let that horse
eat that violin
cried Chagall's mother
But he
kept right on
painting
And became famous
And kept on painting
The Horse With Violin In Mouth
And when he finally finished it
he jumped up upon the horse
and rode away
waving the violin
And then with a low bow gave it
to the first naked nude he ran across
And there were no strings
attached
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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I have 137 pairs of shoes and 200 pairs of jeans.
quote by Frances Bean Cobain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Life
We’ll not reach the goal one by one but in pairs
We know in pairs we will know all about us
We’ll love everything our children will smile
At the dark history or mourn alone
poem by Paul Eluard
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My Philharmonic Orchestra and the Soliloquy
I play the miraculous Cello and the Tambourine too.
And my beloved plays rest of the instruments on & off!
And also she does Soprano.
In our hard times when hunger invades the band
She sings in her high pitch
And my fiddle gives the saddest tune of the Life
In its base rhythm of the Violin family!
Though it's bitter and melancholy
We play ourselves and listen together
As the Audience left the Theater earlier.
*To Peter llych Tchaikovsky for his Waltz from Eugene Onegin!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I was playing violin for a long time, about 6 years. It takes a while. You need very patient people in your house when you have a violin.
quote by Kevin Eubanks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who the hell wants fourteen pairs of shoes when they go on holiday? I haven't had fourteen pairs in my life.
quote by Brian Clough
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My brother Leon started it all. He played the piano. In school they made me leader of the orchestra because I played the violin, but I followed Leon and the boys in his jazz band around.
quote by Louis Prima
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whoever heard of an electric violin, electric cello or, for that matter, an electric singer?
quote by Andres Segovia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Full Volume
It started out with a violin,
bow drawn steadily across the strings.
With a haunting tune it did begin,
to delight me, which such music brings.
Now joining in with this gentle strain,
a lone flute took up the melody.
Its bright notes enriching the refrain,
creating a honeyed symphony.
Entire orchestra in full volume,
brought other instruments into play.
What powerful vibes suffused the room.
An overwhelming concertante.
This harmony of glorious sounds,
all bursting forth from the piano’s keys.
made me listen. How it all astounds,
this perfect piece, one of Vivaldi’s.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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My Father, With His Arthritic Hands
My father, with his arthritic hands
Closes his door, picks up the bow
Tucks the bit under his chin
Tunes it real low
My father can compete with the world's best bands
My father plays the violin.
His eyes are dim but the notes are clear
His hearing is faulty but we can hear
The songs that pour out from within
People outside stop to listen
When my father plays the violin.
He opens up another world
Far from stress and pain
I become a child again
As without a word
He picks up the bow, tunes it real low
My father plays the violin.
My father with his arthritic hands
Holds a magnifying glass to his eyes to read
He sits out there under the clear blue skies
Now that he can hardly walk
(Luckily my sisters are there when he needs to talk) .
And when its dusk and he enters within
Then with his arthritic hands
Father picks up his violin.
poem by Rani Turton
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Shadows
I know how you feel and,
You will like to know who i am;
But by the time you go through my lines,
You will surely know who i am!
For love is the key of my name.
Seven pairs of clean animals and,
Two pairs of unclean animals;
The water increased and lifted the ark!
And it raised high above the earth.
Prove your love to me and,
I will lead you on to the land of paradise;
For he shadows of the evening are still across the skies!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Violin Love
Violin whisperer
Taming the wild beast
Sounds unearthly
Majestic notes surround
She closed her eyes
Swept away in a rush
Burst of emotion
Tears flowing
She says "Play me
I want to be your violin
Pluck my strings
Make me sing
Run your bow over me"
poem by Paul H Nelson
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Chick Magnet
Don’t play the cello if you want
to be a magnet for the chicks,
a guy who on guitar strings picks
is thought be far more gallant.
I learnt this fact from Yo-Yo Ma,
who probably believes that poets
have also far more luck with coeds
than cellists. Maybe many are,
but I am not, unfortunate
with poems as he is with cello.
I wish I were a magnet fellow,
and made the chicks importunate,
first for my poems, then my bod,
but since I don’t play the guitar,
my life is black as café noir,
and I am lonelier than God.
Charlie Rose on December 3,2008 interviewed Yo-Yo Ma, who accompanied on his cello the singer and songwriter from North Carolina, James Taylor, who also plays the guitar. Yo Yo explained that he has played the cello since the age of three, and that this has not made him a chick magnet. James Taylor started off by playing the cello but gave it up for the guitar, which Yo-Yo considers a wise decision.
12/4/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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I played violin and got into that Suzuki program in the second grade.
quote by Adam Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song Of The Violin
SHE stood in the curtains played over by light —
The tinted curtains — a tired, sweet girl,
With exquisite arms under laces of white
Like an ivory figure in mother-of-pearl.
I entered; she saw me, but made no move;
To some I nodded, to some replied;
(A violin somewhere was singing of love)
She blushed and paled, and I stood at her side.
I asked for a dance — she shook her head
And laughed like a petted, petulant queen;
She had promised them all to others, she said,
'And you are so late — and where have you been?'
They were talking low in the long, bright room,
And I answered her, moving the blind aside —
'Out there on the lawn in the velvet gloom,
Wooing a woman to make her my bride.'
She suddenly shook like a startled dove;
Ruffled and paled and hung her head
(A violin somewhere was singing of love,
And bitter-sweet were the things it said).
'This heat is stifling!' — she moved away.
'Out here,' I whispered, 'and hark to the tide!'
'The woman — where is she?' I heard her say;
'Now show me the woman you wooed for a bride.'
'Here on the land — and there on the sea,
Her feet among roses, her head in the skies;
And now do you see her?' She whispered 'I see,'
Her hand on my shoulder, a laugh in her eyes.
'Do you love her — this lady so mystical, fine?
I dwindle before her, a plain little miss;
She has stars in her hair — only roses in mine;
But the Night has no heart, and the Night cannot kiss.'
'Not now, if you please, sir!' — a moment she strove —
The curve of my arm softly circled her head . . .
A violin somewhere was singing of love,
And sweet beyond all were the things it said.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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The soprano has all those other instruments in it. It's got the soprano song voice, flute, violin, clarinet, and tenor elements and can even approach the baritone in intensity.
quote by Steve Lacy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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